Has there been someone in your young life that you
respected and looked up to, someone that was extra special to you?
For me, that is my grandmother. She lived only a
couple of houses away. I had the opportunity as a child to visit often. She usually
had something baked to offer and always an ear ready to listen. I can’t
remember her giving lots of advice, but she always seemed supportive.
For me, one of the reasons she is so special is that
she was the person who took me to church. I knew by the way she acted that she
believed and carried out what she read in her Bible. Sometimes when I would
visit she would be reading it.
As a teenager I thought that owning her Bible someday
would be great. If she had marked it up in any way such as I have mine, maybe I
would learn something new about the Bible or about what was important enough to
her to mark a certain passage. I thought owning that Bible would be like having
a piece of Grandma’s heart and soul with me.
So, I asked her one day if I could have her Bible
after she dies. “Of course you can!” she remarked, somewhat surprised by my
request.
Grandma has been gone now for seven years. The
person who has her Bible is not me. I have requested getting it several times,
have been shown it by this person who possesses it, but it has not been turned
over.
Evidently the person who now has this Bible feels a
need of her own to keep it even though she knows how badly I would love to have
it -not for the material possession of it, but for the emotional and religious
reason.
I have given up the hope of ever owning Grandma’s
Bible. But I will not surrender my memories of Grandma, the good times taking
rides in the car, the things she taught me, the time we spent together mostly
doing nothing except talking, occasionally baking a cake. I will remember her
serving me cookies and a drink while we sat on her porch, she in her chair and
me on the glider, watching what was going on in the neighborhood while we
chatted. I will remember sitting around her kitchen table reminiscing about the
good ole’ days when she grew up or when she met my Grandfather. I loved hearing
stories of her playing basketball way back when. I had been amazed that girls were
even allowed to play basketball when my grandma was in school for you see she was
born in 1905. She also was not a tall woman, only about 5’2” or so. To think
that my sweet grandmother had enough guts to play on a team amazed me.
But she had determination all through her life. She
didn’t quit when times were tough nor did she give up hope. She was a joyful
woman and people liked being around her even when she was in her 90’s and early
100’s.
Her life had been put on hold for several years while her youngest son
recovered, not fully, from a car accident when he was in his 20’s. He lived
with her the rest of his life, dying only a couple years before her. She cared
for him throughout his life without complaining. That’s the kind of spunk she
had.
Her belief in God and the way He chose things to
take place in her life was evident. She trusted His word and knew He would
guide her.
I may not have her Bible but I will always have
Grandma in my heart. That is way more important than being able to hold onto a
material thing.
Thank you Grandma for being the wonderful loving
woman you were.
